Sunday, December 31, 2017

lukewarm
coffee as
the sun
comes up
an oldies
station
on the
car radio
and I'm
leaning in
to the
punches
to take
the sting
off singing
along with
the Beatles
and smoking
the first
light of
day through
my windshield
its 6am
and things
might not
get any
better than
this so
I take
the second
to notice
light hit
the street
as clouds
move like
a train
across the
horizon

At last – the end
of another self-imposed, flexi-time day. “My tray is never empty; my work is
never done” sighed Selene, with a yawn.

As vacation time
loomed up on the horizon, Selene felt catapulted out of her present, straddled
time, became awash with memories and anticipation. She felt so fulfilled, so
sustained by that special experience – and replayed it constantly in her mind,
for years on end. On reflection, she realised she had made three crucial
choices, and began to think of an alternative, imaginary dénouement of her grand scenario. Indeed she had
delicious reminiscences, retrospectively savouring of perfection. But memories
were not quite enough; they were tasty dishes in need of spices – the senses
must again be engaged directly; the lubricating oil must be applied, literally
and metaphorically. She ached with the need to be reassured by something
immediate and tangible, to revive and extend her experience – go happy to heaven,
and let her wings grow, after being fulfilled on earth. Selene was determined
to earn her heavenly robes.

But all experiences
are selective, and involve the exclusion of at least one alternative. How would
the composite of her past scenario have worked out if she had not given herself
to the boy, but left him with a focus for the ‘out of reach’? That option might
just have kept him out of that trouble with the local police, which she
witnessed – the possibility that he got exposed to police brutality, or badly
injured. What would it have been if her surging impulse had overridden her
circumspection, and she had given herself to Hudson at the top of that temple –
and then once again near the surging waves – two mirror consummations – embracing
the spiritual and the elemental, as she had embraced the safe, comfortable and
material in the bridal suite? Did that cushioned luxury detract from her peak
experience? For years it had felt perfect in retrospect – but now it had a
slight tinge of compromise.

A revisitation of
that idyllic locale started hatching in her mind. Her intervening holidays,
mainly at Health Centres, had all been reasonably satisfying, but low-key. The
other participants were all very pretty, but lacking in charisma. The chief
bonus of those trips was that they made her feel better afterwards. They did
their job, as did the palliatives of her favourite glamour videos. But memories
and spectacles cannot be all-sustaining. Now was the time for her to do
something different, while health still permitted – to some degree emulate her
one gesture of bravado. Some couples booked the same location, the same hotel,
every year – Selene had to space things out a bit more to gain perspective.

Goodness
knows, a lot of people involved in her work called her a ‘professional cynic’ –
though her friend Janice always accused her of wishy-washy idealism. The prospect
of a ‘repeat’ expedition naturally had some feeling of déjà vu and possible
anti-climax; goodness knows she had had enough wasted journeys and let-downs in
her life – though those were all separate from her holidays. She had, however,
avoided the bathos of a failed couple vacation. Like a voice of
anti-conscience, there was the still-present figure of Janice, ready to sneer
on the sidelines – though now with some restraint against the background of
marital troubles. And the world had moved on at its grinding, accelerating
tempo, becoming ever harder-edged. The challenging, positive alternatives were
literally, physically, life-threatening – falling down precipices, being
attacked by big game animals – she could not quite bring herself to that. Selene
always found surgery quite scary. She accepted that those who could face such
hazards were far greater than herself. Heroes and heroines are always to be
applauded. Perhaps the Duke of Edinburgh Award on her wall might have been a
tasty addition to her interior decor. But she did not really feel hero-worship
of those who had got it.

That
volatile country had recently become quite prominent in the news; there had
been quite a lot of unrest, strikes, suspicions of drug trafficking, struggles
for indigenous land rights – as well as some build-up of tacky tourism – mercifully
not too much, and the worst of the British tourists hadn’t latched on to it yet.
They seemed to have copied the example of Greece – too a much lesser extent,
but still considerably to their cost. Having some time ago graduated to the
Credit Card zone, she did not, this time round, need to skimp so ruthlessly to
finance her trip, which in some ways detracted a little from the anticipation.
Is there diminished sense of satisfaction in an achievement when there is less
of an effort to make it?

Re-enacting
her ritual of anticipation, Selene did her grand ceremony of self-admiration in
the mirror. As she had then adored herself as a bathing belle, she now dressed
up in a shimmering white robe, obtained from a retro costumier, fitting for a
sublime priestess of primordial glory to perform her ritual of sacred seduction,
and mutate into a deity. It could have been inspired by any one of a mass of
ancient civilisations, or by all ancient civilisations – many of them
cross-fertilised each other through exploration and trade. She truly loved, was
fascinated by her own body, both diaphanously veiled and fully revealed –
yearning for her mirror ego to be enraptured by her while feeding her yearnings
with a lovely, matching physique. Her robed body felt to her like an exquisite
ethereal form swaying, swayed by caressing clouds. Her quivering hands did the
work of the breeze; the robes drifted off to herald the radiant sunlight beauty
of her body.

She had
to admit to herself that, in the course of her work and her leisure, she felt
twinges of envy of those young things coming off the tour buses, in their first
flush, beaming with their backpacks, viral and global – all exuberant, queuing
up outside the Discos – apparently not a care in the world, and all their lives
glowing before them. But of course they had a lot to learn – disillusionments,
upsets and all, and they would have their quota of traumas and tragedies. Maybe
she might comfort one or two of them en route, enlighten them with her wisdom –
after all, she radiated experience, automatically commanding respect. If she
was really lucky, she might meet a shy one, to bring out of her shell, and
carry her essence into the next generation.

Yes; the years, life’s
inescapable overloads, and world-weariness, were beginning to creep up on her,
but Selene determined to remain well-preserved. Whatever the stresses, her
regimes stood firm; diet and ointments kept the lines at bay. She unfailingly
convinced others of her success, if not always herself. Around her, of course, the
times had moved on at an increasingly accelerated pace, and modes of behaviour
shifted. So, with today’s cynical worldly wisdom, what now were her chances of
meeting a beautiful stranger out of the blue, and for that beauty to have a
decisive impact on her? Now she was wired up to the internet, and it was a la mode to advertise for a partner,
for a rendezvous. Still anxious to move with the times, she overcame her
initial reluctance in that area. Well; if it did turn out to be a fiasco, there
were so many others with comparable experiences that she would have the
sanctuary of anonymity and oblivion. And, like everyone else, she must make a
stand against ageism.

Now, on the streets
and on the computer screen, there were so many good looks around that it was
extremely hard to be selective. But she certainly didn’t want anyone too young
– whoever it was to be had to have a touch of weather-beaten maturity. And
preferably someone who had been hurt, as that would generate underlying
compassion.

She was impressed by
Melville’s CV – so experienced and distinguished, and got him to send her his
picture – a gesture she did not reciprocate – as she had to play ‘mysterious’,
let him build up a mental picture of her until she introduced herself to him,
and make him gauge the differences. His image radiated toned fitness tempered
with sensitivity – and she was drawn in by those penetrating but benign eyes! For
their introduction she arranged a date in the badminton hall of her local
health centre, where she could see him playing with several of the others, and
she would get a clear impression of how he flexed his body; then, at the right
moment, she would introduce herself.

That svelte figure,
in white top and black shorts, shone three-dimensionally through her response
to the picture and her anticipation. By coincidence, she wore a matching
outfit.

“Hi! I’m Selene. I
may, or may not, be what you imagined I’d look like.”

“You satisfy my
expectations, and my imagination” he replied.” Melville had the usual array of
images to help him formulate his ideals. This encounter certainly passed the
acid test of reality!

“Ok; I’m your
partner! Let’s do our game. I want you to give it your all, as if I were your
deadly rival; and I will reciprocate. We shall be mutual catalysts of rivalry!”

The
match must have lasted an hour and a half; with him she applied all her
strength, in turn stretching him fully. The sight of his swinging arms, legs,
shoulders and trunk enthralled her utterly. She could have defeated him, but instead
allowed him to win by one point; she must tap his adrenaline further. In her
anticipation of what was to come, she began to oscillate between a consummation
and a rejection, which could be a grand liberator of his mind; after all, in
the words of the Lady of Infinite Wisdom, ‘Rejection is the greatest
aphrodisiac’. Or perhaps, as with Hudson, an initial rejection adding spice to
a consummation. The administration of pain can be a benevolent act. Pleasantly
half-blind about how this adventure might map out, she arranged the flight and
the hotel booking, and he worthily paid his share. According to her rules, they
must not travel out there together, but meet at the destination. Melville would
take his plane 12 hours after she took hers.